


Not Like I'll See You Again

by VictoriaLucas0417



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Consultant Hannibal Lecter, Crime Solving, Eventual Smut, First Couple Chapters Involve A Case, Flirting, Gray Will Graham, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Murder, New Orleans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police Officer Will Graham, Story Starts Pre-Canon, Will Graham in New Orleans, Young Will Graham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaLucas0417/pseuds/VictoriaLucas0417
Summary: Will Graham is a young cop in New Orleans when a string of murders spurs the higher ups to bring in Doctor Hannibal Lecter, a forensic psychologist, to help consult on the case. Despite the grim circumstances of their meeting, the pair hit it off and decide to have some fun under the guise of never seeing each other again only to run into each other almost a decade later in Baltimore.AKA Will and Hannibal meet when Will is still a cop in New Orleans and hook up because, what are the odds they will run into each other again?
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 21
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

Will looks in the mirror one more time before leaving for work. He runs a hand hopelessly through his curls to tame them, but they spring back up in a wild halo around his head. He is working a little harder to look presentable today. All patrol officers have been called for a meeting today to be briefed about a new killer in the area. The hope is that if the officers understand the profile, they will be able to more effectively find the killer. He has already murdered six tourists, three couples, and is showing no signs of stopping.

Will had been on the force since he graduated high school five years ago. His ultimate goal was to work for the FBI. His empathy disorder made it easy for him to understand the motives for the crimes and mindsets of the killers they investigated. He thinks he would make a great profiler, but for now, he is a beat cop in New Orleans. He spends most of his time trying to get drunk people home safely, writing tickets, and the occasional violent scene.

Satisfied that there is no taming his curls, but that he otherwise looks fine, Will grabs his wallet and keys from the large wooden bowl from beside his front door and heads to the precinct. Once he gets there, he heads to the conference room and scans the room for his partner, Henry. He sees the older dark skinned man seated in the middle of the room, empty seat by his side, and in the middle of a conversation with their sergeant and another man Will has never seen before. He walks over to Henry and, without looking away from Sergeant Miller, he pats the seat next to him, letting Will know he had saved it for him. Will sits down with a small grin and pulls out a notepad and pen.

“It’s been a while since we have had one of these.” Henry’s slightly accented words punctuated by a wave of his hand around the conference room and all the officers milling around, waiting for the briefing to start. “He must be pretty bad.”

Sergeant Miller runs a handkerchief covered hand over his glistening bald head. “He’s a real sicko, Henry. I hesitated to do this. I didn’t want all of our guys to have to see these scenes. Especially the younger ones.” Will doesn’t miss the way Sergeant Miller’s eyes flicker over to him for a moment before meeting Henry’s again.

“Oh, George. Give ‘em a little more credit than that. They know what they signed up for when they joined. Take Will here,” Will turns to face Henry at hearing his name. Realizing it is an invitation to join the conversation. Henry wraps an arm around his shoulders, smiling at the younger man in a paternal way. “He has a good head on his shoulders. He’s gonna do big things. Just you wait.” Will blushes a deep red. The other man standing with Sergeant Miller seems to notice Will for the first time in that moment. His amber eyes meet Will’s ocean blue ones for the briefest moment before Will drops his gaze. The man is tall with broad shoulders that are emphasized by the cut of his three-piece suit. If Will wasn’t so embarrassed, he would laugh. The man obviously wasn’t from the area. This time of year, the heat and humidity were so bad you could cook an egg on the sidewalk. But if the man is uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. He stands with the posture of a man very sure of himself. His face is sculpted with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. Will realizes that he has been studying the man and that he is being studied in return and looks away completely, but not before seeing the twitch of the man’s lips into a small smile.

“I hope so,” he manages to say through his embarrassment. Henry pats his shoulder before letting him go.

Sergeant Miller smiles unconsciously at the exchange. He is glad that Henry has taken Will under his wing. He knew he was right. Will could be great, but he needed some guidance. A father figure to guide and teach him some basic street smarts that most of their other recruits already brought to the table when they put on the uniform. Will had all the intangible things: instincts, bravery, a big heart, and a drive for justice. They could help him with the rest of it.

“If I am being honest. It was Doctor Lecter’s idea to include everyone. The lieutenant called in a few favors so we could borrow him for a while, until we have a better grip on this guy.” Sergeant Miller points to the tall, amber eyed man upon saying “Doctor Lecter.” He must have introduced him to Henry before he joined the conversation, Will thinks to himself. “Thank you again for being here,” Sergeant Miller says as he claps a hand on the doctor’s shoulder.

“No problem at all, and please, call me Hannibal.” His lightly accented words were unlike the usual accents Will heard. Not the French that he heard in the square, the Creole he heard from Henry and his family, or the general Southern twang found most everywhere else. He wonders where he is from. Hannibal looks at his watch before looking back to Sergeant Miller. “We should start the briefing before everyone starts to get restless. It was a pleasure talking with you all.” Henry murmurs his agreement and Hannibal glances at Henry and Sergeant Miller. He meets Will’s gaze again before turning around and walking towards the front of the room with Sergeant Miller on his heels.

Henry turns to face Will again, looking slightly over his shoulder, knowing Will doesn’t like forced eye contact. “He’s a trip isn’t he?” he says motioning to Doctor Lecter discreetly. Will nods with a small huff of laughter and begins to fidget with his notepad. “You okay, kid?” Henry asks as the tempo of Will’s toe taps reaches a fever pitch.

“Yeah. Yeah. I am fine. It’s just a lot of people.” Will hunches his shoulders slightly, as if the force of all the people in the room are causing him to fold in on himself.

“Did you bring the armor I gave you?” Henry asks with a cock of his slightly graying eyebrow. Will nods and pulls a pair of black plastic framed glasses out of his shirt pocket and puts them on. He pushes them up the bridge of his nose. The lenses do not hold a prescription. They are solely to give Will a barrier between himself and the people around him. It also gives him something he can adjust periodically without it seeming like a fidget. His toe tapping slows down after a few minutes and he grins at his partner.

“Thank you,” Will says, and he is grateful. He does not know how he got so lucky with his partner. Henry never pushes Will too far out of his comfort zone or boundaries unless he is willing to stand on the limb with him. He doesn’t treat Will like he is fragile or not capable of this kind of work. On the contrary, he shows Will how to use his specific skill set to his advantage. Henry knows Will’s empathy disorder can be a lot for him to deal with, but it has been very helpful out on the beat. He is excited to see what Will can do with an actual profile and full details about a case.

Sergeant Miller stands behind the podium and calls for everyone’s attention as his assistant is passing out briefing booklets with the profile, case information, and crime scene photos to each officer. “Alright, everyone. Thank you all for being here. As you know, we have a sicko on the loose. He has been luring couples away from the main strip to torture and murder them. So far we have 6 victims total. I don’t want any more bloodshed. Our Lieutenant has called in some favors and brought in some help.” He motions towards Doctor Lecter who has been standing silently by his side. “Doctor Lecter is a forensic psychologist who will be consulting on this case so we can try to pinpoint who we are looking for. He has put together a profile and will be going over the case as well as the profile with us now so we can hopefully catch this bastard before he does this again.” Sergeant Miller wipes his sweaty forehead again with his handkerchief. “Without further ado, Doctor Lecter, show them what you’ve got.”

Doctor Lecter steps towards the podium with a carefully detached, almost bored expression, unless of course you know what to look for. Will knows what to look for. There is a slight flicker of amusement on the man’s face when he looks towards the Sergeant. As he clicks through his slides, Will can tell he is in his element completely. He enjoys having the crowd’s full attention. The photos he chose do not shy away from the more gruesome aspects of the killer’s proclivities. Doctor Lecter chose not to blur any of the crime scene and shows the violence against the female victims just as he shows the violence done to the male victims and Will surmises that he sees it as all the same. Violence is violence. There is nothing personal about it to the doctor. It takes Will a moment before he realizes that he is paying more attention to how the information is given than to what information is given. He takes a breath and refocuses.

From Doctor Lecter’s presentation and profile they are told they are looking for a white man between the ages of thirty-five and forty-five years of age. He is charming and good-looking enough to get people to trust him, but not so much so that the partners get jealous or defensive and walk away. He will work in the service industry either as a tour guide, taxi driver, or something else in that vein which gives him the agency and authority to tell perfect strangers where to go and when without them second guessing the instructions. He is someone who knows his way around the city and knows when certain places will be abandoned which leads the Doctor to speculate that he is a native of New Orleans. Doctor Lecter also thinks these murders will continue and escalate until he is caught. He ends the presentation by saying, “This shy boy is perfecting his design. These three crime scenes are just the ones we know are his. I would not be surprised if he has done this before, but I am certain he will do it again with shorter cooling off periods and with more efficiency until he is caught.”

Will isn’t sure if he should clap or simply nod. The whole presentation feels like a performance to him. He looks around and the others are simply nodding and writing notes. A few officers in the back are asleep. Did no one notice how this man spoke about the killer as though he was a professor providing notes and critique? Did no one else hear the way his tone was schooled into the politely disinterested tone until his final words, where the control slipped just slightly. Will looks over to Henry as Doctor Lecter’s presentation ends. “Yeah. What did you call him earlier? A trip? That’s certainly one word for it.” Will chuckles a little as he looks back over his notes as Sergeant Miller retakes the podium to give out assigned areas for patrol. Once everyone has their assignments, the conference room starts to clear out.

Will and Henry make no move to leave yet. Will is flipping through the booklet they were given. “What do ya got for me, kid?” Henry points at his notes. “Anything you want to talk over?”

Will nods. “Yeah. The victims are all over the map. The demographics are all over the place. That’s why everyone is in such a rush to close this case.” Will pulls out the photos of the victims. “Any of these people could be your neighbor or your kid’s teacher. It shakes people. We know there is more drug related murders in this area and there isn’t a special consultant that gets involved with those cases.”

“That’s true. So how do we find this guy so we can get back to working on those cases?” Henry asks to get Will’s train of thought back on the profile.

“Doctor Lecter has a point. I think the reason we do not have a description of the killer is that he looks like any average Joe. All of these people were lured away from busy areas, but no one saw anything or more accurately, no one saw anything out of place. But I think this guy is younger. Look at this,” Will flips through the booklet that they were given and tears out the wide shot of the second crime scene. “This is a mess. Look at the broken chair and all this glass. Look at the wrists of the male victim. Wait let me. Hold on” Will flips through the booklet again before rolling his eyes and taking all of the pages from the binder. He stands up at their table and begins rearranging the photos in a way that makes sense to him. “Here it is. Look at his wrists. There are not one, not two, but three sets of ligature marks. The first ones show that he pulled against them so much, they broke skin. I think he got free. He also has bruises on his fists like he tried to fight back. Will runs his finger down one of the data sheets. “He was by far the largest victim. This guy was what, 6’ 2” and 250 pounds? Yeah. He got free. Our killer got cocky after his first successful hunt. The victims in the third murder were both of a smaller build. I think this guy isn’t even thirty yet and I bet he is barely bigger than me.” Henry smiles as Will continues to pour over the data sheets and arrange photos. Henry glances up towards the exit to see that Doctor Lecter is hanging back and is watching and listening as Will gives his take on the case with a little grin on his face.

Henry lets Will work in silence for a few more minutes before prompting him again. “Where do we start looking? Sergeant Miller has given us the southeastern part of the grid. Where do you want to go first?”

Will pulls out the map of the crime scenes. “What is the time frame between kills?”

Henry flips through his still tidy booklet. “Between the first and the second? A week. Between the second and the third? Three weeks. It’s been a week since the last one.”

Will looks up and meets Henry’s eyes. “He’s going to do it again tonight. I feel it. He lost a little confidence after the big guy got free and gave him a run for his money, but this last one? No. It felt too good. He’s going to do it again.” Will looks at his watch. It is 5 o’clock now. “I don’t think we can stop him from taking the next couple.” He sits back down and looks over the photos as he runs a hand down his face and shakes his head a little as if he is trying to clear it. “No. If we intervene, he will just take someone else. It’s not the victims that he cares about. It’s the act itself. We have to find the next place he is going to take them.” He looks back over the map and frowns.

Henry kneels down by Will’s chair. “Will, I know you hate it when I ask,” Henry begins but Will interrupts him.

“I know. I know. It would help though. Wouldn’t it?” Will asks, but he already knows the answer.

“Where would you take them, Will? Where would you go? Look. Really look. I am right here with you.” Henry puts a hand on his shoulder.

Will turns back to the table and closes his eyes. The pendulum swings and his skin feels tight. He is on the main strip. He can hear the neon of the sign above his head and the faint sound of jazz get louder and then quieter as the door to a bar across the street opens and then closes. The pendulum swing once more and when he opens his eyes, he is in the warehouse that was closed for repairs that the killer took the third couple. Both victims are tied to wooden chairs with electrical cords. “I need a place that is quiet, but if you get loud,” Will points a threatening finger to the woman before placing it over his lips as he steps closer to her. She is crying, but her sobs quiet down as he gets closer. Her whole body convulses with fear, but she makes no sound by the time Will runs a hand through her hair while looking at her husband. “If you decide to get loud, or more likely, if I decide to make you get loud, people may hear you, but no one would be surprised. No one will report it.” Will steps away from her but then kicks at the leg of her chair causing the woman to shriek. Will smiles at her wide enough to show his teeth. He closes his eyes and when he opens them, he is gasping in the conference room.

Henry is right next to him. His hand still tight on his shoulder. Will leans into the touch letting it ground him as he catches his breath. “We are thinking about the locations the wrong way. The place doesn’t need to be away from other people. Doesn’t need to be secluded at all. It needs to be away from people that can or would report any sounds of violence. All of the places he took them were near areas where people were displaced from Katrina. Were there homeless camps nearby?”

Henry steps away from Will and looks over at the map with a smile on his face. “Yes. Each crime scene is near a camp or in neighborhoods where we know people are staying in abandoned homes.”

“That’s where we will find him tonight. We need to search through warehouses or homes that are either abandoned or are being repaired in parts of town where people are in unstable housing situations. He counts on the fact that no one can say anything. He feeds on the fear he creates not just from the victims we see, but also from the victims he leaves behind. The ones that hear it all happen and can’t do anything about it.” Will grabs the map again and his pen and starts marking circling areas and then marking out others. “Let’s start here.” Will points to an area in their assigned area near the docks where businesses are beginning to rebuild, but they aren’t ready for the public yet.

“Are you sure? Do you want to pass the information on, or do you want to go check it out first?” Henry asks as he helps Will gather all the photos and papers that he has sprawled out during their conversation.

Will stands up and stretches before helping Henry pick everything up and organize it back into the binder with quick, jerky movements. “Let’s go. There are other people in the area as well. If we think we found something, we will call in the others. It can’t hurt right?”

Henry hears the door click quietly and he knows Doctor Lecter has just left and would probably be telling the Sergeant what he heard. If they were alone searching the area when they first got there, it wouldn’t be for long. “Ok, kid. Let’s roll.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Henry search for and find their monster as Hannibal's curiosity about the young man grows.

Hannibal tries to muffle the sound of the door closing behind him as he leaves the conference room. He knows he should stop by Sergeant Miller’s office. He should tell the man what he heard and where the two officers are likely going. He should, but he won’t. At least not yet. He wants to give the young man a head start. Wants to see if his intriguing mind is on to something. They have a large area to search. He will give them time to nail the area down some before he alerts anyone. In the meantime, he will go about his business until he runs into the Sergeant. He will let fate decide the head start.

***

“How do you want to search? Do we need to break it up and do a grid search?” Will asks Henry while he is looking at a map of the area they were assigned. He pulls out a pen and starts marking out areas and circling others.

“Looks like you have some insight on your own over there. Would you like to share?” Henry asks with a grin, taking one hand off the cruiser’s steering wheel and using it to push down the map so he could look over and see Will’s face. His glasses were pulled up and resting on the top of his head.

“I’m thinking either abandoned apartment buildings or motels. Somewhere he would have privacy because there is no legitimate business or people living there, but there may be people staying there out of necessity. This guy has used electrical cords cut from items found at the scene. He doesn’t seem to have a kit. I want to look in this area.” Will points to a large circle on the map that contains a street with old motels that have been out of commission since the storm. “But I didn’t know if there was a procedure or protocol we are supposed to follow. I doubt the book says ‘Will’s gut.’”

“The book may not, but all the procedure guys have been chasing their tails looking for, what you believe to be, a kid. A brutal, cruel kid, but a kid nonetheless. I say we try a little nonconventional tactics. What street do you have highlighted?” Henry asks.

“Marina Road,” Will says as he puts his glasses back on.

Henry wants to ask where he went just now. What caused him to put his guard up, but he knows Will will tell him if he wants. He has already pushed him so much today. Better to let him sit with his thoughts. If he was right, he would have to ask even more of him before the night is through.

***

They park the car a block away from Marina Road. Henry puts the car in park and before he gets out of the vehicle he removes his service weapon and checks to make sure it is loaded and ready to go before placing it back in his holster. Will copies his movements and they exit the car.

“You think he is at this motel by the water?” Henry asks Will as they walk towards the motel.

“Yes and I can’t explain why, but yes.” Will’s eyes are darting all around them, chasing every sound or slight movement from the wind. He is wound up tight.

“I suggest we approach quietly. If he is there, you say he likes to make some noise. We should hear him. We can call backup once we are sure.” Will nods.

As they get closer to the round roofed building, Henry draws his weapon and Will mirrors him again. The sun is setting, causing a strange orange glow on the water. They keep towards the shadows and listen. The farther down the row of rooms they get without hearing or seeing anything out of place, Will feels doubt weigh heavy in his chest. Then, right before they go to double back the way they came, Will sees a flicker of movement of blinds covering one of the windows. He catches Henry’s attention and points to the window. Henry walks towards Will and places a finger over his lips before gesturing for him to stop walking. They wait for another slight move of the blinds or a whisper of sound for what seems like eternity before they hear what sounds like furniture scrapping across the floor followed by a muffled sob. Will moves towards the door without thinking before Henry throws an arm out to stop him. Caution written all over his face. He motions for them to step away so they are out of earshot of the door.

“It sounds like he may be here. If not him, someone up to no good. We need to call it in. There should be others already in the area,” Henry reaches for his radio and starts to call in for backup.

Will’s skin feels tight again, like an ill fitting suit. The hair on his neck is standing up and he wants nothing more than to break down the door. He hasn’t heard a word Henry has said into the radio. His eyes are glued to the door and his knuckles are white around his weapon.

“Are you sure? We need backup now. There is some kind of assault in progress. This may be our guy,” Henry’s voice is a little higher than normal. “We can’t wait twenty minutes. If he realizes we are here it could be over in twenty minutes.” There is a pause and then the dispatcher on the other end of the radio puts out an all hands on deck call for their location. Henry looks up at Will and places a hand on his shoulder, bringing his attention back to himself. Will’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “We could have help in five minutes or twenty minutes. We don’t know. I don’t feel comfortable waiting, but I don’t want to risk putting you in a bad situation either. I am going in there, whether you come with me is your call. What do you say, kid? You with me?” Henry draws his weapon as he finishes his question, tipping his head up towards the motel room that they both know holds their monster. Will doesn’t say anything. He closes his eyes for a moment and dips his head. When he raises his head and opens his eyes, they are hard. All the playful, soft parts of him that Henry has grown so fond of are gone. Will raises his weapon, an exact mirror of Henry’s stance, and nods.

They walk towards the door in sync. Will a few paces behind Henry. He senses that the older man wants the lead. He wants to protect Will from whatever they will find behind the door that has been the center of Will’s focus since they arrived at the abandoned motel. When they get to the door, Henry points to himself then to the door before raising his left hand and starting a count down starting with five fingers, mouthing the count to Will. It’s dark safe for the street light behind the building and Will has to strain to see his lips. _Five_. Will feels his spine straighten. He can sense the man behind the door. It is everything he can do to wait for the count. He wants to kick the door in. _Four_. He doesn’t know what he will do when he comes face to face with the monster. He tries to take in Henry’s usual calming presence, but at this moment, even Henry seems pulled too tight, like every nerve ending is a livewire. Will can hear his heartbeat in his ears. _Thump thump thump_. It is distracting. Has Henry already said three? He isn’t sure, but in the next moment he sees only two fingers on his hand. _Two_. Will narrows his eyes and checks the safety on his gun one more time. _One._ Will backs up a few steps to let Henry kick in the door before following behind him into the small hotel room. The only light comes from an industrial flashlight pointing upwards in the room to let the light penetrate the small area containing the table and two chairs in the room. Will looks towards the couple. They are restrained and tied to the chairs with what looks like electrical cords and strips of bedding. The man has some blood on his face, mostly around his nose, like he was punched in the face. The woman looks mostly unscathed. Tear tracks and mascara trail down her face, but no blood, at least from what Will can see in his quick glance. Will can still hear his heartbeat. They have only been in the room for three beats before Henry announces, “New Orleans Police Department. Put down your weapon.”

Will whirls around to see their monster. He was right. The man is in his mid-twenties. He has slightly sun kissed skin, brown hair, and hazel eyes. The only remarkable things about his appearance was the fact he was able to get his second male victim subdued again after he got through his bindings. This kid is not physically imposing. His body is lean, mostly muscles and bone. He holds his body like a predator, slightly leaned forward, muscles tight. Will assumes he must be stronger than he looks. His eyes flicker to the man’s hand to see his knuckles bloody and his fingers curled tight around a knife. The blade glints even in the low light. Will looks back up to meet his eyes, gun still drawn and pointed at the young man. A man barely older than himself. He feels the urge to attack. The fear in the room both of being caught from the killer and being killed coming from his intended victims is thick in the air, like another entity in the room. The internal struggle between fight, flight, and fear is suffocating for Will.

The room isn’t very big and Will has been inching towards the man with the knife as Henry tries to stay between him and Will. “Drop the weapon. It’s over.” Henry calls out to the man again. In his effort to get between Will and their monster, he gets within arm’s reach. The young man lunges and cuts Henry’s arm with his knife. Crimson blood drips from the blade, the smell hits the air and without thinking about it, Will squeezes the trigger. Screams fill the room from all around him. He can’t tell where they are coming from. They mix with the sound of sirens from the road that are getting closer and the steady _thump_ of his heartbeat still pounding in his ears. His whole body feels like it is on fire. He looks down to see the monster, now just a kid slumped against the wall. The bullet went through his leg. From his limited knowledge of anatomy, it missed anything vital, but a steady trail of blood pools around the hole in his jeans and runs down his leg, seeping into the matted carpet. He closes the distance between them and kicks the knife away from him and fights the urge to kneel beside him and watch him bleed out. “You ok, kid?” Henry asks, trying to shake Will out of what looks to be shock. He leans against the other wall, applying pressure to the wound on his upper arm.

Will shakes his head a bit to clear it. He reaches for his handcuffs and cuffs the man before hurrying over to Henry. “Yes. Are you ok? Is it bad?” His hands flutter around Henry’s like he wants to touch him. To help him. Henry notices that Will’s glasses are slightly askew and the hard look in his eyes has thawed slightly at the sight of Henry hurt.

Henry chuckles a bit, “I am going to be fine. It’s a long way from the heart. Check on them. I can hear the cavalry.” And Will can too. It sounds like they are in the parking lot now.

Will walks over to the couple, still tied to the motel chairs. Their fear is still palpable. It makes Will’s hands shake slightly, but he is sure they will not notice. He unties the woman first and, as soon as she is free, she throws herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I thought he was going to kill us,” she says through full body sobs. Will puts on arm around her to steady her before pulling away and untying her partner.

Uniformed officers enter the room and Will melts away from the commotion towards Henry as he tells them a quick version of what happened. Once the people in the room start to take the couple and the handcuffed man towards the parking lot for medical attention, Will and Henry follow. “You need to get that looked at,” Will says, nodding towards the older man’s arm.

“They have their hands full at the moment. I’ll be ok.” Henry shrugs, but then looks over at Will, pointedly, trying to meet his eyes. Will acts like he doesn’t notice before Henry stops walking and places the hand of his uninjured arm on Will’s shoulder. “You did good, kid. You didn’t hesitate. You kept your head in the game and we all made it out.” His smile is proud. Will tries to let it warm him. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” he answers quickly. “He didn’t get close enough.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. It was rather heavy in there. Hell, even I could feel it. Are you ok?”

“Yes. I mean,” Will pauses, taking a breath, “I will be. I can keep it together through all this.” He points to the absolute bedlam they are walking towards. There are half a dozen cop cars, several ambulances, loads of onlookers, and even more uniformed officers milling around the parking lot. Not to mention, the flash of cameras from journalists, eager to report that the danger is finally over.

Henry squeezes his shoulder and continues walking towards the mess. They see Sergeant Miller talking to Doctor Lecter and Henry steers them their way. Once in front of Sergeant Miller, he closes the distance and claps both men on the back. “Good work, gentlemen. Excellent. How did you know he would be here?” He looks towards Henry who grins and points to Will.

“Once the briefing was over, we took some time to go over the information together and Will put the pieces together. It was truly something to witness. Not easy to ignore.” Will sees Henry’s eyes flicker to the Doctor and feels an edge in his words. Hannibal’s eyes narrow at Henry just a fraction, but other than that one micro-expression, he is the very definition of calm observer. “Once we figured out he was here, we came up with a plan to apprehend him and minus a small setback, it went smoothly.” At the mention of the setback both the men look at Henry’s arm which still trickles blood down his bicep and forearm, though it has slowed.

“When were you going to mention that? Let’s get you looked at.” Sergeant Miller walks towards Henry and stated guiding him towards the closest ambulance. Before they are out of earshot, he turns towards Will who is looking slightly over his shoulder. “Great work, kid. You handled yourself well tonight. No major injuries to the hostages and our man is alive to answer for what he has done. Not to mention you found him in a few hours when we have been running around for months.” He says the last part with exasperation before smiling gently at Will. “You have a bright future ahead. I am going to take Henry to get what looks like some stitches. Hang around for a bit if you don’t mind. Just in case anyone else has any questions.” Will nods and pushes his glasses back into place on the bridge of his nose.

Once Henry and Sergeant Miller walk away, Hannibal steps closer to Will. “Not fond of eye contact are you?”

Will looks over towards Hannibal and shakes his head. “Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don’t see enough.” His words trail off and he runs a hand through his curls, shaking his head.

An amused smirk twists Hannibal’s mouth as his eyes finally capture Will’s for a moment before the younger man’s eyes settle on his chin instead. Hannibal can’t help himself and steps even closer to Will, breaking the little bubble of personal space the younger man tries to maintain with the people around him at all times. “How did you really find Mister Laurent?” Hannibal asks in just above a whisper nodding towards the ambulance that holds their suspected killer.

Will wants to back away. He wants to walk over to where Henry is getting patched up. His mind is telling him that there is something off about the strange man. Dark, maybe even dangerous. But he is curious. He can’t quite get a full read on the man. Their interaction is a challenge of sorts and it has been a very long time since Will has felt challenged. Most people are easy to read and he can generally tell how his choices and words during a conversation will be received, what he does with that information may vary, but Hannibal’s emotions and tells are locked up tight. A puzzle. “Don’t you know? Henry mentioned there should be uniforms in the area. He seemed almost sure of it. You listened to our conversation.” It isn’t a question. Will fights back a teasing grin and shifts his body to face Hannibal before adding, “Did you enjoy the show?” If he was going to be challenged, he would face it head on. He figured Hannibal would react better to that in the very least.

Hannibal’s smirk turns into a wicked grin and he reaches towards Will as one would a stray animal, with slow, obvious movements. He removes Will’s glasses, folds them, and places them in Will’s chest pocket. Will doesn’t move to stop him, merely narrows his eyes and cocks an eyebrow in question and bemusement. “I did. Very much. How long have you known of your empathy disorder?”

Will’s expression quickly changes to shock for the briefest of moments before he gets it under control. Of course Doctor Lecter would make that jump. He is a psychiatrist. How many have Will met with in the past who couldn’t wait to pop the hood and see what makes his engine tick. There would be no point in denying it. “I always knew I could see and feel the world differently. At first, the doctors thought it was a form of autism. When I was around twelve, a psychiatrist diagnosed me. Too many mirror neurons.” Will waves his hand vaguely at his head and in doing so, realizes that they are still standing very close to each other. The other people at the scene have left a bubble of space around them. It’s almost intimate. That point driven home by the fact that, since Hannibal removed his glasses, Will has been making direct eye contact with him. The doctor’s amber eyes boring a hole in Will as if he can lift the answers straight from his mind. _Hell_ , Will thinks, _he may as well be_. He can’t stop the next words from escaping, moving past a simple answer to his question and on to a confession of sorts. “Sometimes I tell people I’m on the spectrum. It keeps them from asking too many questions and lowers the expectation for eye contact and social interaction.” Hannibal had noticed that. The Sergeant didn’t expect Will to give the report. He didn’t find it odd that Henry was the mouthpiece of the team.

“You don’t seem to be having an issue now. See something that has caught your attention?” Hannibal’s accent wraps around the words a little stronger, adding to the smoothness. Will’s only response is to look away from Hannibal and towards the ambulance finally pulling away with their tourist killer inside. Hannibal follows his eye line to see him looking towards the ambulance. “I took a look at the gunshot wound. He will need surgery, but the wound is not life threatening. He will make a full recovery.” Hannibal waits a moment before adding, “Was this the first time you fired your service weapon?”

Will looks away from the taillights of the ambulance and back at Hannibal. “Yes.”

“How did it feel?” Hannibal asks in the same whisper as before, as if this is their secret.

Will’s eyes flicker away before he quickly says, “Scary.”

Hannibal lets out a quiet chuckle. “Try again, dear boy. How did it feel? Or rather, how did you feel?”

Will senses the darkness around Hannibal as though it is reaching out to him. It’s still just in the background. Nothing concrete. Will’s mind races as he thinks how to answer the question. He felt exhilarated. The blood pouring from the hole in Luke Laurent’s leg caused goosebumps to raise on his arms. He wanted to push his finger into the wound to hear the man scream again once the shock set in and his screams had turned to whimpers. Even though his mind raced at the time, his heart was steady. He could hear it in his ears and feel it in every part of his body. Will looks back at Hannibal and realizes that, while he has been following this train of thought, his chest is heaving, pulling air into his lungs in sharp, though quiet, gasps. He bypasses the answer this time and goes straight to the confession. “I feel like I wish I was a better shot.”

They are way to close at this point, almost sharing breath. At Will’s confession, Hannibal takes a deep breath, tasting the air, savoring the moment and slowly pulls away. “Where would one go to grab a drink after a particularly taxing day?” Hannibal asks with a crooked grin.

Will shakes his head, returning the smile. “This is New Orleans. If you stand on the street for too long, someone will offer you a drink.”

Hannibal straightens up and Will mirrors his movements, almost like they are magnets affected by each other’s pull. “What if I wanted particular company?” Hannibal tilts his head to the younger man a fraction. Will can still feel the darkness from the man wrapping around him and he makes the mistake of looking up into the taller man’s amber eyes.

“Um,” Will stumbles for a moment and then answers his unspoken question. “Jim’s Bar. It’s a dive near my house. I stop by there to knock back a few when I need to unwind or shake off something I’ve seen out here.”

“Sounds charming.” Hannibal moves back from Will, smoothing his suit jacket. “I may see you there later?” With that, Hannibal dips his head and turns to walk away before Will can answer or even say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and for taking the time to read this story. <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading my story. I really appreciate it!


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